Tuesday, February 02, 2010

Be my Valentine

A man walks into a post office one day and sees a middle-aged, balding man standing at the counter methodically placing "Love" stamps on bright pink envelopes with hearts all over them. He then takes out a perfume bottle and starts spraying scent all over them.
His curiosity gets the better of him; he goes up to the balding man and asks him what he is doing. The man says, "I'm sending out 1,000 Valentine cards signed, 'Guess who?'"
"But why?" asks the man.
"I'm a divorce lawyer," the man replies.


from http://www.everythingvalentinesday.com/valentine-jokes.html

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Dear John

April 18, 1994

Mr. John T. Mongan
123 Main Street
Smalltown, California 94123-4567
Dear John:

You've got the grades. You've certainly got the PSAT scores. And now you've got a letter from MIT. Maybe you're surprised. Most students would be. But you're not most students. And that's exactly why I urge you to consider carefully one of the most selective universities in America.

The level of potential reflected in your performance is a powerful indicator that you might well be an excellent candidate for MIT. It certainly got my attention!

Engineering's not for you? No problem. It may surprise you to learn we offer more than 40 major fields of study, from architecture to brain and cognitive sciences, from economics (perhaps the best program in the country) to writing.

What? Of course, you don't want to be bored. Who does? Life here *is* tough *and* demanding, but it's also *fun*. MIT students are imaginative and creative - inside and outside the classroom.

You're interested in athletics? Great! MIT has more varsity teams - 39 - than almost any other university, and a tremendous intramural program so everybody can participate.

You think we're too expensive? Don't be too sure. We've got surprises for you there, too.

Why not send the enclosed Information Request to find out more about this unique institution? Why not do it right now?

Sincerely,

Michael C. Benhke
Director of Admissions

P.S. If you'd like a copy of a fun-filled, fact-filled brochure, "Insight," just check the appropriate box on the form.



May 5, 1994

Michael C. Behnke
MIT Director of Admissions
Office of Admissions, Room 3-108
Cambridge MA 02139-4307

Dear Michael:
You've got the reputation. You've certainly got the pomposity. And now you've got a letter from John Mongan. Maybe you're surprised. Most universities would be. But you're not most universities. And that's exactly why I urge you to carefully consider one of the most selective students in America, so selective that he will choose only *one* of the thousands of accredited universities in the country.

The level of pomposity and lack of tact reflected in your letter is a powerful indicator that your august institution might well be a possibility for John Mongan's future education. It certainly got my attention!

Don't want Bio-Chem students? No problem. It may surprise you to learn that my interests cover over 400 fields of study, from semantics to limnology, from object-oriented programming (perhaps one of the youngest professionals in the country) to classical piano.

What? Of course you don't want egotistical jerks. Who does? I *am* self-indulgent *and* over confident, but I'm also amusing. John Mongan is funny and amusing - whether you're laughing with him or at him.

You're interested in athletes? Great! John Mongan has played more sports - 47 - than almost any other student, including oddball favorites such as Orienteering.

You think I can pay for your school? Don't be too sure. I've got surprises for you there, too.

Why not send a guaranteed admission and full scholarship to increase your chance of being selected by John Mongan? Why not do it right now?


Sincerely,
John Mongan

P.S. If you'd like a copy of a fun-filled, fact-filled brochure, "John Mongan: What a Guy!" just ask.

Thursday, August 06, 2009

An Italian Vegetable Garden

An old Italian lived alone in New Jersey . He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground was hard.

His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison.. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:

Dear Vincent,
I am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won't be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot.

I know if you were here my troubles would be over... I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days.
Love, Papa

A few days later he received a letter from his son...


Dear Pop,
Don't dig up that garden. That's where the bodies are buried.
Love,
Vinnie


At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left.


That same day the old man received another letter from his son.

Dear Pop,
Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the circumstances.

Love you,

Vinnie

Monday, August 03, 2009

Ponder These

1. If you take an Oriental person and spin him around several times, does he become disoriented?



2. If people from Poland are called Poles, why aren't people from Holland called Holes?



3. Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery?



4. If a pig loses its voice, is it disgruntled?



5. If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?



6. Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?



7. When cheese gets its picture taken, what does it say?



8. Why is a person who plays the piano called a pianist but a person who drives a racing car not called a racist?



9. Why are a wise man and a wise guy opposites?



10. Why do overlook and oversee mean opposite things?



11. Why isn't the number 11 pronounced onety one? (I like this one alot!)



12. 'I am' is reportedly the shortest sentence in the English language. Could it be that 'I do' is the longest sentence?



13. If lawyers are disbarred and clergymen defrocked, doesn't it follow that electricians can be delighted, musicians denoted, cowboys deranged, models deposed, tree surgeons debarked, and dry cleaners depressed?



14. I thought about how mothers feed their babies with tiny little spoons and forks so I wondered if Chinese mothers use toothpicks?



14. Why do they put pictures of criminals up in the Post Office? What are we supposed to do, write to them? Why don't they just put their pictures on the postage stamps so the postmen can look for them while they deliver the post?



16. You never really learn to swear until you learn to drive.



17. No one ever says, 'It's only a game' when their team is winning.



18. Ever wonder about those people who spend two pound a piece on those little bottles of Evian water? Try spelling Evian backwards:



19. Isn't making a smoking section in a restaurant like making a peeing section in a swimming pool?



20. If 4 out of 5 people suffer from diarrhoea, does that mean that 1 enjoys it?



21. Why if you send something by road it is called a shipment, but when you send it by sea it is called cargo?

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

The love story of Ralph and Edna

Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have.

Ralph and Edna were both patients in a mental hospital. One day while they were walking past the hospital swimming pool. Ralph suddenly jumped into the deep end.

He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there.

Edna promptly jumped in to save him. She swam to the bottom and pulled him out. When the Head Nurse Director became aware of Edna's heroic act she immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital, as she now considered her to be mentally stable.

When she went to tell Edna the news she said, 'Edna, I have good news and bad news. The good news is you're being discharged, since you were able to rationally respond to a crisis by jumping in and saving the life of the person you love. I have concluded that your act displays sound mindedness.

The bad news is, Ralph hung himself in the bathroom with his bathrobe belt right after you saved him. I am so sorry, but he's dead.'

Edna replied, 'He didn't hang himself, I put him there to dry. How soon can I go home?'

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Privacy Policy (Not Funny)

Update April 2009 - Privacy Policy

This website/blog uses third-party advertising companies to serve ads when visiting this site. These third parties may collect and use information (but not your name, address, email address, or telephone number) about your visits to this and other websites in order to provide advertisements about goods and services of interest to you. If you would like more information about this practice and to know your choices about not having this information used by these companies, you can visit Google's Advertising and Privacy page.

If you wish to opt out of Advertising companies tracking and tailoring advertisements to your surfing patterns you may do so at Network Advertising Initiative.

Google uses the Doubleclick DART cookie to serve ads across it's Adsense network and you can get further information regarding the DART cookie at Doubleclick as well as opt out options at Google's Privacy Center

Privacy

I respect your privacy and I am committed to safeguarding your privacy while online at this site jokevault.blogspot.com & jokewarehouse.blogspot.com The following discloses how I gather and disseminate information for this Blog.

RSS Feeds and Email Updates

If a user wishes to subscribe to my RSS Feeds or Email Updates (powered by Feedburner/Google), I ask for contact information such as name and email address. Users may opt-out of these communications at any time. Your personal information will never be sold or given to a third party. (You will never be spammed by me - ever)

Log Files and Stats

Like most blogging platforms I use log files, in this case Statcounter & Google Analytics. This stores information such as internet protocol (IP) addresses, browser type, internet service provider (ISP), referring, exit and visited pages, platform used, date/time stamp, track user’s movement in the whole, and gather broad demographic information for aggregate use. IP addresses etc. are not linked to personally identifiable information.

Cookies

A cookie is a piece of data stored on the user’s computer tied to information about the user. This blog doesn't use cookies. However, some of my business partners use cookies on this site (for example - advertisers). I can't access or control these cookies once the advertisers have set them.

Links

This Blog contains links to other sites. Please be aware that I am not responsible for the privacy practices of these other sites. I suggest my users to be aware of this when they leave this blog and to read the privacy statements of each and every site that collects personally identifiable information. This privacy statement applies solely to information collected by this Blog.

Advertisers

I use outside ad companies to display ads on this blog. These ads may contain cookies and are collected by the advertising companies and I do not have access to this information. I work with the following advertising companies: Google Adsense, Clixgalore, Commission Junction. Please check the advertisers websites for respective privacy policies.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Dog and Cat Diaries

The Diary of a Dog

8:00am Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30am A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40am A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30am Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00pm Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00pm Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00pm Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00pm Milk bones! My favorite thing!
6:00pm Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00pm Wow! Watched TV with my family! My favorite thing!
11:00pm Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!



The Diary of a Cat

It is day 683 of my captivity: My captors continue to taunt me with
bizarre dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the
other inmates and myself are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I never the
less must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing
that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust
them, I vomit on the floor.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet.
I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly
demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made
condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. The
audacity! There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight.
I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event.
However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my
confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this
means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my
tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this
again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.
The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released --and
seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded!

The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with
the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. The
captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so
he is safe, for now.